


Some call it reckless, I call it breathing

by AutumnHobbit



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crack, Family, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Team as Family, Unreliable Narration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3102560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnHobbit/pseuds/AutumnHobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So here they are. An outlaw, two thugs, a maniac, and an assassin. And a baby.<br/>What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I don't sleep so well at night

**Author's Note:**

> Continued from this: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2763053
> 
>  
> 
> Basically this is going to be my fluff-releaser-thingy.  
> Title from Accidental Light by Sleeping At Last. (Seriously. Go look him up if you haven't already.)

Peter sat alone at the controls as the Milano sped through space, back towards Xandar's quadrant.

The aftermath of the birth was actually pretty peaceful. Peter carried Gamora back to her room while Groot brought the baby, and then they left them both to rest while the others cleaned and did the necessary maintenance. They were still four hours away from Xandar, so all there was to do was wait.

There was a clanking on the ladder, and soon Drax appeared. "I am available to pilot, if you would like a rest, Quill," he said.

"Sure," Peter got up, clipping his walkman to his belt. "Shouldn't be too much longer." Drax nodded and took his seat, turning his gaze to the star field that was rapidly passing.

Peter clambered down the ladder, dropping to his feet in the hold. Groot sat in a corner, snoring lightly, blossoming flowers running down his arms. Peter sighed, stretching his shoulders and glancing around. It was late by now, maybe 2:00, and Rocket was either asleep or holed up and tinkering with something. He himself was in one of those tired-wakeful states; the kind where you had a bit of a drowsy awareness of everything, but were so tired that you were awake. He wasn't a stranger to the feeling; he'd dealt with it often as a kid. With his mom sick and all, it was sometimes difficult to shut his brain off.

The current question was what to do about it. He could go to bed and try to sleep, or just listen to his music for a bit. But he found himself wanting company. He decided to go and check on Gamora. If she and the baby were asleep, he'd just go on to bed.

When he rapped lightly on her door, he wasn't expecting a response, so he was surprised when there was an immediate, if a little sleepy response. "Come in."

He pressed the button and stepped in quietly. Gamora flashed a quiet smile up at him before turning her gaze back to her daughter, who was snuggled against her chest, fast asleep. Peter sank down beside her bed, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Hey."

"Hi," she said, stifling a bit of a yawn.

"Couldn't sleep, either?" He asked. She shook her head, loose curls bobbing with the motion. "No. I slept a good nine hours. But somebody was apparently hungry." She ran her hand lightly over the baby's hairline, smiling. Peter smiled at both the motion and the soft noise of comfort that escaped the tiny girl. "Feeling better, though?"

Gamora nodded. "A bit sore and tired still, but otherwise alright. Thank you, by the way."

Peter shook himself from an almost-not-really doze. "Hmm? For what?"

"For staying. I know it was probably uncomfortable for you."

He shrugged. "It's nothing. I mean, I was glad to help. And really, I didn't do much. I just kind of observed the professionals at work."

She smacked his arm lightly with a grin. "Humility from the rugged outlaw."

He smiled back. "What can I say? Y'all made me turn over a new leaf."

The baby tossed her head with a little squeak. Peter closed his mouth, hoping she wouldn't wake up and start crying. He sighed a bit in relief when she simply blinked open her brown eyes and gazed at him and Gamora sleepily.

Gamora shifted the baby slightly so that her head was resting against her shoulder. Then she glanced at Peter. "Would you like to hold her for a bit?"

Peter blinked. Then he shrugged. "Sure. If you'll...erm...show me how," he trailed off, a bit embarrassed.

"Not much to it, just be sure to support her head," Gamora said as she gently shifted the baby into Peter's arms. "Not much experience, I take it?"

He shrugged with his free shoulder. "Parents weren't married, and my mom was an only child, too." He glanced down at his teammate's daughter, a bit amazed that her head fit almost perfectly in the palm of his hand.

After blinking at him almost suspiciously a couple times, she apparently decided he was trustworthy and nestled against him. He felt a curious stirring in his chest at her warmth pressed against his shoulder. Gamora merely smiled softly at the two of them, stroking the baby's cheek with her fingertip.

"So, have you given any thought to a name for the little sleeping beauty here?" Peter asked.

"Well," Gamora said, "I was considering maybe..." her voice dipped a bit, "calling her Kamaria, after Drax's daughter." She glanced towards the door. "That is, if it's alright with you," and Peter glanced up and saw Drax leaning against the doorframe.

He merely gave a smile with only a tinge of wistfulness to it. "It would be an honor. I am sure my daughter is proud."

"I'm still calling her 'the spawn,'" Rocket muttered as he stepped past on his way to take over piloting. "Or at least Kam."

Peter shook his head, then glanced at the sleeping infant on his shoulder. "Well, welcome to the gang, Kami."


	2. I got friends in low places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yondu is semi-decent, and everyone else deals with a very strange day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here comes an update, finally. Sorry it's taken so long. And I am almost done with lowbudgetcyborg's prompt, I just realized I had to do something story-wise, first.
> 
> Apologies if the characters come off a bit ooc. I'm sort of in the 'Yondu-was-a-semi-decent-person-occasionally' camp, but seeing as how he did almost kill Peter in the movie, I can't let it go entirely. :P

Peter wasn't exactly sure how he wound up wandering through a crowded alley, Gamora next to him, with her week-old daughter held close to her chest and a mix of irritation and fear on her features. He assumed he must look even more annoyed.

"They just had to take a job here," Gamora grumbled, pulling her hood on a bit more securely for the tenth time.

"I'm not happy about this, either," Peter sighed. "We don't have much of a choice, though. We're running out of units, and they didn't want to attract attention." He only received an irritated sigh in return.

In fairness, he understood why she was on edge. Going out in public was still risky for Gamora; perhaps even more so now that she didn't constantly have a squad escort. Of course, the other Guardians would gladly kick the ass of anyone who hurt her, but sometimes confrontations occurred anyway. And, Gamora being Gamora, usually she just took it without any protest.

It was different now. It wasn't just about her. And seeing her arm wrapped protectively around her sleeping daughter, tucked beneath her cloak, Peter wasn't sure whether he pitied anyone who tried to mess with her, or would just enjoy the show.

They came out of the alley onto a wide street, crawling with people and stalls and shops. Peter did a quick sweep of the square, to see if the others had arrived yet---

And his gaze landed on familiar blue skin and red leather. Headed this way.

" _Shit,_ " he swore, pulling Gamora back and quickly dropping down behind a stall. Gamora glared at him as she covered the baby's ears. "Sorry," he groaned. "Fu... _fudge_."

"What is it?"

"Yondu," he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "I knew this was gonna be a sucky day."

"Maybe he's just here by coincidence," Gamora offered. Peter stared flatly at her. "What? It's possible."

Peter paused to listen, then quickly put his hand over her mouth and froze, ruminating that it was a testament to their friendship that his limb was still attached. A snatch of conversation from a few stalls away reached their ears. "You're sure they're supposed to be here?"

"That's what she said."

"Sure she wasn't just screwin around?"

"Pretty damn. Just keep a lookout for Quill and the girl. They'll be around here somewhere."

The conversation ended. Peter didn't relax for a few minutes. When he did release Gamora, she didn't immediately spring up with a glare...which was also a testament to their friendship.

"I'm a moron." Peter griped.

"At least we agree on something," Gamora said. Peter ignored the jab. "I should've known that eventually he'd come after me."

"So what do we do?" Gamora asked.

"I don't even have 4% of a plan on this one," Peter leaned out and glanced around quickly. "He's got the entire clan with him, this is a densely populated area...all in all, this sucks." He pressed his head back against the wooden panel of the stall and struggled to think. There had to be some way to deal with this situation. He flipped through the most likely scenarios, and every time he came to the same conclusion. "You should go back to the ship, tell the others what's going on and meet 'em elsewhere. I'll go talk to him myself."

"No." Gamora said firmly.

"Look, I dunno what he's about, and if he's out to hurt me..."

"I'm not letting you face him alone, so no. Out of the question."

"...I'd rather he not be able to get to any of you guys," Peter finished.

Gamora sighed. "Peter, you don't have to keep doing this. It's not okay if you get beat up and killed just so long as none of us are involved. We have your back now. You might want to take advantage of that fact." More softly, she finished. " _I_ have your back."

Peter sighed. But he found her hand with his and squeezed it softly. She returned it. "'Kay then. Let's see...maybe the best idea is just to try and sneak past him and get back to the Milano. It's hidden pretty well. Then we can call the others and tell them to meet us elsewhere."

"Sounds like a plan," Gamora said as he helped her up.

Peter did a quick check to make sure no one was in sight. "Okay. Quick and quiet." They took off at a brisk walk, cutting across the square and weaving through a different alley. Both he and Gamora were probably double-taking far more than was considered normal...but this was a spaceport, so no one seemed to take notice.

They had gotten a few blocks from the square when Peter saw Yondu and Kraiglin...in the alley they were headed towards. "Back." he hissed. "In here," and Gamora quickly followed him into a different alley.

"Do you think he saw us?" she whispered.

"Hopefully not," he mumbled, glancing around again _(man, he was growing paranoid in his old age.)_

When they reached the street where the alley opened up, Gamora did a quick check before whispering, "I don't see them anywhere up ahead."

"Good. The sooner we get out of here, the happier I'll be," Peter said back. "We were in dock 27, right?"

"Mmhmm."

Peter did another quick sweep, nodded to Gamora, and they both stepped out.

And, naturally, that was exactly when Kraiglin and Yondu stepped seemingly out of nowhere and grabbed them. Peter just sighed.

"Well, howdy there, boy," Yondu said brightly. "Fancy meetin' you here."

"Hello, Yondu." Another sigh. He glanced at Gamora, who was currently glaring daggers at Kraiglin. _Play it safe._ She got the message, if a bit unwillingly.

"Wow, is that all I get? Hero business must be makin you soft, son."

Peter only flinched slightly at the term, shrugging. "Maybe it is. Is there a point to all of this? Or are you just looking to make me late?"

"What, you got a hot date?" Yondu glanced at Gamora, then added, "Elswhere?"

Peter groaned internally at the slight hiss that escaped his teammate. "No. But I'd rather not hang around here all night, if it's all the same to you."

"Matter of fact, I did want us to have a little chat. Me and you and the girl, if you don't mind."

Gamora glanced at Peter, the _where-the-flying-frick-is-he-going-with-this_ clear in her gaze. Peter shrugged marginally before saying, "So long as you won't kill me, I'll ask her nicely not to kill you."

"Fair enough," Yondu said. He gave a slight nod to Kraiglin, who let go of Gamora's arm. She straightened and tossed her hair with an audible snap as she followed, quickly falling into step alongside Peter again.

"Fancy a drink?" Yondu pulled to a stop next to a stall.

Peter shrugged. "Strongest you've got," he said to the owner.

"You?" The ravager turned his attention to Gamora. "

"No." The response was short, flat and toneless.

"'Kay, your choice," Yondu mumbled, taking a gulp of his own.

After a beat of awkward silence, Peter sighed. "Alright, what is it? If this is about the Orb..."

"It's not."

"Well then just say whatever the hell it is you came to say, _please_?" Peter said in exasperation.

"Alrighty then. Where's the kid?"

To their credit, neither of them glanced at each other, though Peter could see Gamora's shoulders tense minutely, and he himself felt like someone had just wrapped a fist around his heart and squeezed. "What kid?" he replied as casually as he could.

Yondu snorted. "Don't pull that crap on me, boy. Word's been going around for months. So just fess up already."

This time, they did glance at each other. How did word get out? They'd tried hard to hide it, but apparently not hard enough. Gamora looked to be seriously considering dismemberment, but she was smart enough to know when she's cornered. So she flipped the cloak back just enough that the Ravager could see the sleeping infant, before quickly tucking it back around her.

"Ah, there's the little angel herself," Yondu said, taking another swig from his glass with a chuckle. "I always knew you had guts, boy, but I sure as hell didn't think you were gutsy enough to knock up a Daughter of Thanos."

Peter choked on his drink. He stared at his former boss with a vaguely horrified expression. He honestly jaw-dropped, and if the situation were less serious, Gamora would have laughed.

"Come on, Quill, everybody on the ships knows you. I wasn't too keen to their little plan, but they got it in their heads that you might be needing some things. I had to bring 'em here to prevent a mutiny. And I'll tell you this, boy, I ain't about to have a mutiny on my hands over some used baby clothes."

"I...I..." Peter babbled, and Gamora was grateful that he hadn't managed to get out more than a syllable. She kicked him lightly in the shin. "Accept." she finished. He finally nodded dumbly along with her.

"Good. I'll go tell Kraiglin to bring the guys and the stuff. You'd best be getting to your compadres before they start shooting the place up." Yondu nodded to where Rocket and the others were standing, apparently trying to decide whether Yondu's appearance yielded weaponized intervention or not. When they noticed they were being watched, they immediately pretended to look elsewhere. Gamora rolled her eyes, and Peter didn't even bother restraining himself from slapping his forehead.

"You owe me big on that orb, boy. Don'cha forget it!" they heard over their shoulders as they took off.

"What. The actual fu...dge..." Peter muttered disbelievingly.

Gamora shrugged. "You're the one who knows him."

"Like that helps," Peter snorted. "One second he's got an arrow an inch from my neck, the next he's offering me hand-me-downs."

They reached the rest of the group. "What's _he_ doing here?" Rocket hissed in an over-undertone.

"Delivering us childcare packages, apparently," Peter said flatly.

"You're kidding."

"Friend Peter has no reason to lie on this matter that I can see," Drax said, then blinked when everyone glared at him.

"I am Groot."

"Never mind," Gamora sighed. "Let's just get back to the Milano. I'm ready to get this over with and head for deep space again."

\---

To the entire team's surprise, the Ravagers turn into babbling nutcases around the baby, and the entire process takes an hour and a half longer than first expected. Even more surprising is that no one really seems unhappy about it. They even bring a sort of mobile which spreads synthesized starfield across a ceiling, and Gamora nearly cries at seeing one again. (Apparently she had had one as a child.)

When they finally hand Kam back to Gamora (albeit a bit reluctantly,) and she's thanked them, one of the guys (apparently his name's Haben...he and Peter hadn't been in the same group that often,) shrugs. "It's no trouble. My daughter's off on her own ship now, so she don't need it."

After one last silly wave to Kam, they head back, leaving the Guardians sitting out on the ramp.

"I am Groot."

"You're telling me," Rocket says. "I'm going in to wipe my hard drive after all that sap. And do humies sunburn really easily, Quill? You still look like you have one."

Peter rolls his eyes. "It's just a reaction, man."

Rocket shrugs. "Whatever."

"About that, Peter..." Gamora finally says. "You were actually surprised when Yondu said that earlier. Why?"

He shrugs, looking uncomfortable. "I...honestly don't know, I just..."

"I thought it was commonly known that you seduced women often," Drax says, and even Gamora winces at how unintentionally blunt he's being.

"Yeah, but..." Peter sighs, shoulders sagging. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't imagined it," he mumbled. "But...I don't know. I might have done it once. Not anymore. And certainly not now that I...erm...actually know you, for lack of a better description." He finishes, looking ready to be blasted into oblivion.

Gamora shrugs lightly. "If we're having a competition on who has the worst background, I am fairly certain I would still win."

"The past is in the past, Quill. There is nothing you can do about it now. All that remains is to go onward," Drax says as he goes back onboard. Peter watches him go before turning to Gamora. "You know, every once in a while something really profound comes out of all that literal-ness."

She just smiles.

Peter takes his headphones off of his neck and sets them next to him on the ramp, turning the volume up and leaning back with a sigh. The soft strains of music drift on the air as the sun sets.

_Oh child, things'll be brighter_

_You just wait and see how things are gonna be_

"On second thought," Gamora says, "I wouldn't mind staying a bit longer."


	3. Weighed down by heavy lids (and lunar lullabies)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so lowbudgetcyborg prompted:
> 
> "Singing to the baby; everyone sings to the baby in their own way."
> 
> So here goes almost everyone. I figured Groot probably doesn't sing; what with the vocabultistics challenge. Hope you enjoy, anyway.

There were times that Groot enjoyed sleeping, though he did not require sleep very often. But sometimes, circumstances or his own desire drove him to wander the ship at night when all the others were fast asleep.

Tonight, it was circumstance. Rocket had had a nightmare--which was becoming more and more rare, but still happened--and now that he was semi-peacefully asleep again, Groot decided to go and gaze at the stars for awhile.

The universe was peaceful and wild all at once, constellations and gas clouds and galaxies drifting in the endless recesses of space, constantly moving and changing and growing and shrinking. This strange dance--of the universe and of life--had always fascinated Groot. It was one of the five reasons he had sacrificed himself to help save it.

He cocked his head slightly. The ship was still drifting, but even from up in the cockpit, he could hear a small, shrill cry.

He stood and clambered down the stairs, pausing outside of Gamora's room. Her small daughter was still crying quietly, but it had died down to a bit of a whimper now and then. But mostly, he was focused on the music. There were no words, really. There was only sound and emotion in the song. It was low and melodic, like the wind in the trees, or the rumble of thunder, or the rush of water over the falls. He had not heard music like this since...since home.

And then her door opened and he stumbled a few steps forward.

"Groot?" Gamora asked, and he straightened, facing her. She looked tired, but not necessarily unhappy, Kam's small head resting on her chest. The baby was still awake, but silently chewing on her fist. "I am Groot."

"...Alright." She sighed. "Sometimes I wish I knew what you were saying."

Peter leaned in, his hair ruffled and messy, still wearing shorts and a plain grey shirt. "Hey, you can carry a tune in a bucket," he yawned. "You should sing more often."

"What bucket?" and "I am Groot?" were his immediate responses.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Expression," he mumbled as he turned and headed back to his room. Gamora sighed. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

Groot. shook his head. "I am Groot," and he imitated Peter with his headphones.

Gamora arched an eyebrow. "You were listening?"

He nodded. "I am Groot."

"Oh. Well. I suppose it's good that you like it."

"I am Groot?" He glanced at her pleadingly.

"You want me to hum some more?"

He nodded, wide-eyed. Kam, for her part, glanced up and wrapped her free hand around a strand of pink-and-black hair.

Gamora sighed. "Alright. You don't both have to give me the big, sad, soulful eyed treatment." She sat back down on her bed, adjusting Kam slightly as the baby curled up and pressed her face against her neck. Groot sat down beside.

"Let's see," Gamora said thoughtfully, stroking Kam's back absently. "I can never remember the words...but I think my mother used to sing this one."

She started humming a low, sweet tune, this one reminding Groot of dancing fireflies in a crystal clear night sky. He slowly opened his palm, letting loose a collection of glowing blossoms. Gamora glanced up at them, smiled, and went back to the song.

And when Rocket came looking in the morning, and found the three of them huddled up and fast asleep, he just snorted fondly to himself and headed off to join the others.

\---

Gamora let out an exasperated sigh as she paced back and forth in the hall, Kam still wailing against her. She didn't seem to be hungry or sick, or anything, really--just grumpy. She felt more than a little guilty for keeping everyone up; Peter had stumbled past her--presumably to shower--with a tired sigh. Rocket had long since wrapped a pillow around his head, and was currently snoring in his hammock. Drax didn't seem to be bothered--but then again, she'd seen him and Rocket exchanging some sort of fabric, so maybe there was a reason he was unfazed.

Kam let out a particularly piercing wail, and Gamora dropped onto the couch with an exasperated groan. She let her head fall back against the wall, gazing up at the ceiling in frustration. After a while, she felt the couch dip as someone else sat down next to her. She turned her head and saw Peter gazing at her. He was cleaned up and seemed less annoyed than he had been.

"If you want, I can take her for a while," he said. "So you can get some sleep."

She gazed back at him for a beat, taking in his earnest gaze from his green eyes. Then she sighed. "Alright."

They transferred the sobbing infant into Peter's arms, and Gamora went back to her room, dropping into bed and falling asleep within a minute.

She woke a few hours later, and lay in bed for a moment, trying to figure out what was niggling at her. Then she realized.

Silence.

She sat up, tossing a blanket off--that was strange, she didn't remember having one--and wandered out into the hallway.

All was still and quiet. Rocket was still snoring away, drooling. She glanced into all the rooms, only to find its occupant soundly asleep. That is, except for Peter's.

That left only the cockpit. She quietly climbed the stairs, but she heard the singing before she came up.

Of the tapes of his weird Terran ballads, there were only one or two of them that could have worked as a lullaby, one of them being the one on his second mixtape. This, however, she was fairly certain was not one of them. It was slower and simpler. And, in her opinion, much prettier.

Since he didn't seem to notice her presence, and since Kam was lying with her head on his shoulder--not asleep but quiet and content--Gamora just rested her chin on her arms as she leaned on the floor of the cockpit and listened to the words for a while, though she didn't understand most of them.

_Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come;_

_’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,_

_And grace will lead me home._

Peter trailed off for a second, apparently trying to remember the last part before he resumed.

_The earth shall soon dissolve like snow,_

_The sun forbear to shine;_

_But God, who called me here below,_

_Will be forever mine._

Kam shifted her head slightly on Peter's shoulder. When she saw Gamora standing on the stairs, she reached out with a tiny hand and made a happy babbling sound. Peter turned to see what she was looking at, and Gamora smiled quietly at him. "That's a pretty tune. I haven't heard it before."

He shrugged, getting up from the seat and walking towards her. "Don't know why I thought of it. Heard it a lot at church when I was really small."

"Ah." She accepted Kam, who quickly fisted her braid and batted it back and forth lightly, prattling the whole time. "Thanks for taking her for a while. I was glad for the break."

Peter shrugged with a slight grin. "You're welcome, it was no problem. Once she stopped crying, at least."

"...Yes. About that." She quirked an eyebrow at him. "How exactly did you get her to stop crying?"

His face fell. "Ummm...."

"Yes?"

He sighed. "You're probably not going to like this." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a wrapper.

"What is it?"

"Hard candy. It's...erm...at least twenty years old." He had the grace to look caught, at least. "But, if it makes you feel better, the stuff almost never rots."

"Hmm. Very clever," she remarked lightly as she turned away.

"...You're not mad?" Peter sounded surprised.

"No," she called over her shoulder. "Provided you know how to get several months worth of it."

She laughed lightly at the sound he made.

\---

Peter was wandering down the hallway one far too early morning, dragging a hamper of laundry behind him, when someone seized him by the arm and pulled him into the engine room. He staggered and barely managed to catch himself--and stop himself from uttering an actual curse. As it was, he managed a "Shh... _schnikes_!"

He whirled to see Gamora, Kam still asleep on her shoulder, and Rocket. "What's with the dragging? And why are you both so darned...awake at this time of the morning?" he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Keep it down, will ya? We're trying to keep this on the low-down." Rocket hissed.

Peter stared at him. "Oh good heavens. You killed someone."

"What? No!" Rocket snarled.

"When would we even have time for that?" Gamora asked.

"Well, then, why in the sam hill are we in the engine room, hiding, at six in the morning?" Peter exclaimed.

Rocket and Gamora glanced at each other. "Okay, so Groot and Drax went off on a job last night."

"Kay. I'm aware of that," Peter replied.

"And they messaged early this morning to say they'd be back around 12:00."

"Okay, so?"

"They also said that, as a thank you from a shop-keeper, they received an instrument. Which Drax just-so-happens to know how to play. And he sounded excited about."

"Okay? So...?" Peter said again. "That sounds good to me."

"Tell me this, Quill. What goes with music?"

"Uh...singing?"

"Exactly! Now, you might not have heard him sing. I, however, have. And lemme tell ya, it ain't pretty."

Peter sighed. "He was drunk when you heard it. It might not be that bad."

Rocket gazed at him flatly. "You know what a drinking song is like for a completely literal species?"

Peter cringed. "Oh. Yeah. I see."

"Uh huh," Rocket said. "And can you imagine love songs? Or even worse, war ballads. There are little ears around," he nodded towards Kam, who was now awake and gazing at them curiously. "For the sake of all out sanities, we have to dissuade him from singing. The problem is how to go about doing so."

Peter sighed. "It's too early for this crap." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, only succeeding in making it stick up even more. "Have you tried just asking him?"

"What if he needs a literal explanation of why his voice is bad?" Gamora pointed out.

"So...we what, distract him from music?" Peter asked, throwing his hands up.

"Exactly."

Peter banged his head against the wall with a clang. "Ugh." Then he straightened. "Wait. They're back at noon, you said?"

Rocket nodded.

_"Then why are we in the engine room at all?"_

Rocket sighed. "The guy does not understand covert operations."

Peter groaned. "I'll tell ya one thing. I never imagined I'd be discussing family-friendliness with you."

"I resent that," Rocket grumbled half-heartedly. Gamora just chuckled.

\---

Despite the projected arrival time, it was already a bit past lunch when Groot and Drax showed up. Peter wound up following Rocket down to greet them. "How'd it go?" he called.

"I am Groot." 

"Right. How'd it go, Rocket?"

"Apparently the Nova Corps either neglected to inform them or didn't know themselves that the planet was inhabited by mutant flowers."

Peter flinched. "Eek."

"Yeah." Rocket clambered up on Groot's shoulder. "Guess I should have given you some explosives."

"There's still some food left in the galley, if you want it," Peter offered, taking the case of units that Groot held out to him. Rocket cleared his throat as Groot headed off to the kitchen, nodding back at Drax. Peter sighed. "Oh, and Drax? After you've had lunch and gotten cleaned up, I was wondering..."

"Yes?" The other man looked at him expectantly.

"If you could..." Dangit, what was he supposed to come up with? "...help me, um...clean the exhaust system."

"Hmm. I was not aware it was clogged." Drax remarked.

"It's not. But it might be. If...if we don't clean it, that is." _Awkward._

"Very well. I will see you after lunch." The warrior heads off, and Peter sighs.

\---

An hour later, Peter is wandering down the hall when he passes Drax going the other way. "Oh, Quill, the exhaust system has been cleaned and re-bolted," he informs him. "I do not see why you would require assistance cleaning it. All that is required is unfastening the pipe, brushing it out, and replacing it."

He heads on, leaving a gaping Peter standing in the hall.

The rest of the day goes on similarly, with Drax quickly finishing oiling Rocket's firearms collection, replacing the lights in Gamora's room, and fixing Groot's solar lamp in rapid succession.

Finally, evening comes, and the entire team somehow ends up in the common area again. Peter is messing around with the tape deck, Rocket is sitting on Groot's shoulder, and Gamora is perched on the couch next to them, Kam curled up in her arms.

There are heavy footsteps as Drax approaches. Rocket heaves a sigh, resigned to the coming torture, and Peter decides there's no point in beating around the bush anymore. "So Drax, what's the deal with this instrument of yours? I haven't seen hide nor hair of it since y'all got back."

"It does not possess fur," his teammate responds plaintively.

"Expression, man. Just means there's been no sign of it."

"Oh. Well, that is because it is quite small." He reaches into his pocket and draws a small, thin, cylindrical item.

"Oh. So it's basically like a tin whistle type thing?" Peter asks.

"I am going to assume that is an instrument from Terra."

"Yeah, small thing that makes a really light, pristine sound."

"In that case, it is certainly similar," Drax says, sitting down. He begins to play a tune, a soft, yet noble-sounding set of notes. The rest of the team is silent, listening. It seems to last a long time, yet they all feel strangely disappointed when it ends.

"What was that song about?" Peter asks when he finishes.

"We have many ballads. I believe that one was about a man returning victorious to his lover."

"Hmm." Peter can't help but shoot a significant look at Rocket. The thief just sticks his tongue out at him.

"This next one is a lullaby," Drax says, and plays another tune. He seems surprised when Peter and Gamora burst into tears halfway through, and Rocket stalks off, making suspicious sniffling noises.

Groot and Kam, however, just glance at the others curiously before turning their attention back to the song.

\---

Rocket somehow winds up alone on the Milano with the spawn, and he's becoming increasingly frustrated because the kid _will not shut up._

Of course, he wouldn't care nearly as much if he weren't trying so desperately to hide them both.

The day started out normally enough; everyone else headed off on a job, with it being Rocket's turn to stay behind and look after the baby. However, either they'd been played, or something else had gone downhill quickly, because Peter had only had enough time to comm Rocket to be on the lookout for company before disconnecting to keep fighting.

So now Rocket was huddled down in the engine room with the kid, loaded for bear with his explosives and swearing up a storm internally. He would never have admitted as much out loud, but he was actually very concerned about the others. Plus, his size disadvantages were not optimal in this situation; Gamora's kid was barely smaller than he was. And it wasn't like he could just leave her somewhere and go fight; but he certainly couldn't bring her along on a nice little murdering jaunt.

All in all, this sucked.

And there was still the matter of crying. Actually, it had progressed closer to wailing now. Which was not good. He had laid her on her back on the floor, and she was still thrashing and crying. Rocket barely stifled a groan as he dropped down, picking her up again and walking in tight circles in the hold. "Hey, kid, I _really_ need you to shut up for me, now."

If anything, the crying got louder. This time, Rocket did groan. "Ugh. Why me?"

He froze. He could swear he had heard a clank upstairs.

Now he was really frantic. He tried to think of anything he knew about kids. He wasn't much of a singer, but he was famous for performing under pressure. _"Close your eyes, go to sleep, hush your face little baby, don't you cry, don't you cry, or we all will quite possibly die..."_

Yeesh, he sounds even worse than he'd thought. Strangely enough, however, it seems to be working. The crying has sort-of died down, and the kid has, for whatever reason, stuck her thumb in her mouth. Whatever. At least it's quiet now.

Now he's certain he hears clanking, coming closer and closer. He quickly ducks behind a threshold, pulling his explosives launcher off his back and lowering his aim to the door.

The door opens, and Rocket immediately fires a stun blast. Only for Peter to drop flat on his stomach to avoid it.

Rocket heaves a sigh. "Dude! What's the idea of you sneaking up like that when I think we're bein' hunted!?"

"Sorry," Peter raises his hands even as he gets up. "That one's on me."

"So what happened, exactly?"

"More Chitauri. They were danged ugly, too."

"I see." Rocket gets up, sticking his launcher on his back again so he can carry the now almost-asleep infant. "I hope you left enough of them for execution via Kyln."

"I make no promises," Peter said.

Rocket rolled his eyes. "Where's Gamora?"

"Out cold. Some sort of EMP thing. You don't mind looking after Kam for a bit longer, do ya?"

Rocket sighs. "Well, why the hell not." Then he sighs again. "Oops. Sorry."

As he heads off back down the hall, he just hears Peter say, "I could've sworn I heard singing down here."

He keeps quiet. Because there is no way he is singing _that_ again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few notes: I figured that Gamora probably would either not know how to sing, or doesn't remember how; just because I highly doubt Thanos encouraged pursuit of the arts.  
> Also, Rocket's lullaby is meant to be sung to the tune of Brahm's Lullaby.  
> If anybody's interested in submitting fluffy, non shippy prompts, I'll see if I get any inspiration from 'em. Hope you'll enjoy. :)


	4. I could give you the sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> divisionten prompted:  
> "I want to see the baby interacting with Rocket like he's a pet, and he's secretly okay with this."
> 
> I feel a bit awkward writing really super long fills for some prompts, and kinda dinky ones for others. Still, I hope it's enjoyed.

Peter and Drax are puzzling over the navigation system in the cockpit when Gamora sticks her head up from below. "Have either of you seen Kam?"

"Can't say I have," Peter says. "I have not," Drax agrees.

. Gamora sighs. "Great. I really hope she didn't get in the engine room again."

Peter and Drax cringe. Apparently, something about the baby's joint-speciesness made her develop somewhat faster than a human child would. She was already crawling...which was a bit of a nightmare in a ship. Last week, she'd crawled into the engine room and between a couple large pieces of machinery while Groot had his head turned, and it had taken them a good two hours to coax her back out.

Just then, Gamora turned her head and took a step back down. "I am Groot?"

"No, I haven't seen Rocket, either. You two?"

"No."

"Nope." Peter sighed, getting up. "If she is in the engine room again, at least Rocket can fit in some of those tiny spaces."

"We really need to get better at watching her," Gamora sighs again. "I'll look in the engine room, you guys look around here."

"Kay." Groot disappears into one of the bedrooms, Peter looks in the laundry room, and Drax shrugs and checks under the couch.

A half an hour later, Gamora, Peter, and Drax show up empty-handed in the cockpit again. "No sign of either of them?" Gamora asks.

Both of them shake their heads. "And on top of that, now Groot's disappeared," Peter says.

"Where was he looking?"

"In the sitting room, I believe," Drax says. The three of them head down the hallway to the room in question. "You know, I didn't really consider ever having the need for this thing to be toddler-proofed," Peter mumbles--then suddenly runs into Drax.

"Hey, what gives?" No answer, and he's pulled back against the wall. "Wha...?"

" _Shhh_!"

Peter shrugs and stands on the tips of his toes, leaning over a bit. Groot is hiding behind the doorframe, gesturing for silence. He nods towards the living room. Peter glances in...

And sees Kam stroking Rocket's fur and giggling, and Rocket curled up in front of her and... _purring_? Did raccoons pur? He guessed so, because that was the only word he could think of to describe the sound.

He glances at his teammates. Gamora looks torn between amazement and entertainment. Drax looks genuinely surprised. Groot, however, is clearly just pleased to see his best friend hanging out with someone else.

A soft giggle distracts him, and he glances back up to see Kam now hugging Rocket like a slightly oversized teddy bear. He stifles a bit of a surprised sound and glances at Gamora, who seems to be restraining an 'awwww.' The baby strokes her hands through Rocket's fur again, and then sets him down, lying on top of him. "Up!" she says brightly. And Rocket actually _stands on four feet_ and runs around carrying her, and wait a second, doesn't he have tons of cybernetics built into his back...?

Suddenly this display kind of makes him want to cry rather than giggle. Though the reasoning behind it is exactly the same.

But instead, he and the others just hide in the hall and listen to Kam's giggles...and a few of Rocket's own.


	5. Love don't come easy, but I keep on waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MarvelFan prompted:
> 
> "If you're still taking requests, I'd like to see Kami calling Gamora 'Mama' for the first time, and the team's reactions. It would be so sweet!"
> 
> Enjoy!

Gamora didn't intend to become jealous, but somehow it wound up happening.

It wasn't that she was upset to see her friends taking to her daughter wonderfully; always willing to play with her, keep an eye on her. In fact, she couldn't be more grateful for all of their help.

No, in all honesty, her issue was with herself.

She supposed, if she were to verbalize her feelings, that the others would insist that she not worry. After all, she had a perfectly good reason for not being experienced in matters of motherhood. But even as she saw Kam growing every day, she couldn't quite stifle a niggling bit of doubt about herself.

If you asked her for a way to kill a man, she could list hundreds. How to hotwire a ship, how to outsmart a tail, how to interrogate...those, she could answer. But how to talk to an average person, just for the sake of doing so? How to make sense of the world? How to truly care for someone?

In some ways, she found it strange that she felt so insecure now, of all times. She'd had her fair share of fear before Kam was born, as well; she mentally cursed herself often for being anywhere near an Infinity Stone, worry of some effect on her daughter always in her subconscious, even as she seemed perfectly happy and safe. But mostly, the weight of responsibility felt particularly heavy; she barely remembered her own mother. Mothers were supposed to know all the answers, be wise and gentle and loving. And this little girl deserved only the best.

The bit of pain in her chest somehow always happened, when she saw Kam in Groot's arms, prattling away happily as he gave her a display of his luminous flowers, when she heard Drax telling her stories. On and on, she felt like she was withering.

As usual, it was Peter who noticed. He caught her quickly walking past where Kam and Rocket were curled up together on the couch, fast asleep. "Hey, uh, Gamora?" She sighed. "Yes, what?" Her tone was a bit sharper than she'd intended it to be.

"I just..." Peter trailed off, seeming to consider his words for a second. "You've seemed kind of uptight lately. Something wrong?"

"No. Not with any of you, at least." She turned to leave.

"Now what is that supposed to mean?" Peter followed her. "Seriously. What's up?"

Gamora sighed again. Finally, she leaned against the wall, pressing hear head back. "Peter...you remember your mother. Drax had a family. And Groot basically loves everyone. I...I'm a killer. That was all I was." She scoffs softly. "All I still am, in some respects."

"No you're not."

She leveled her gaze at him almost fondly. "Well of course you don't think so. You're always trying to see the best in people."

"Well, I can't see any if there isn't any there," he pointed out. "Look, I don't know if it's like this out here...but back home, a lot of kids have trouble with their parents; their parents screw up a lot. I mean, I loved my mom...but there were some parts about her that weren't perfect. There were plenty of better situations we could have been in; and maybe we could've been happier for it, I dunno. But you know what?"

She lifted one shoulder slightly. "What?"

"For as many times as I was angry at my mom for this and that, I wouldn't have traded her for anyone else. She...made me me, if you know what I mean. And as I've gotten older, I understand that she was figuring it out bit by bit, as well. Kinda like I was. And the very fact that you want the best for her already shows how much you care. You love her, it's completely obvious. And that's enough."

The edges of her lips curled upwards. "You truly have a way with words, Peter Quill."

He shrugged. "Speaking of the adorable spawn, where is she?"

"Upstairs," Gamora climbed the ladder. Rocket and Kam were still in their cuddle pile, except that Kam was now awake and stroking Rocket's fur. When she saw Gamora coming, her face lit up with a bright smile and she reached out with her other hand and giggled, "Ma-ma!"

Rocket raised his head. "Well would ya look at that."

"I told you!" Peter yelled up. Gamora just grinned and scooped her baby up. "Yes, sweetie, it's me."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lowbudgetcyborg prompted: Ways Baby Kam's development is is different than expected. Like, maybe because she is a hybrid something about her development is different from Zen Whoberi babies, or something about Zen Whoberi baby-hood is way different from humans and/or Drax's people. I took this and made angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I've been deep in the batfam fandom lately, but I wrote an installment off and on over the past several months or so. This story has been dead for a loooooong time, but I might start trying to write some more of it. It is unbearably silly, but I like it.  
> This chapter however, is, well...not unbearably silly, and while everything turns out okay in the end, it is kind of angsty, so fair warning. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and so sorry for the long wait!

So, for the first time in a damned lot of years, Peter's life is looking up. He's got a team that's made up of a talking raccoon with issues, a giant (sort of) talking tree, a rampaging lunatic who also happens to be a pretty decent guy when he's not out to murder you, and a former assassin and current single mother. And, of course, her kid, who's now several months old and about the sweetest thing Peter's ever seen.

Which is why he's grim but unsurprised when things suddenly start looking down again. 

Over the months since Gamora's daughter was born, the whole team's gotten used her crying. She really isn't that fussy; she has her mom with her at nearly all times, and when her mom's not with her she has another one of them. She cries pretty rarely, and then only for a while.

But one day, she started crying and didn't stop. Still hasn't stopped, actually. It's been going on three days now. 

It's an unfortunate fact of who they all are, that they can tell the difference. But they _all_ know what a scream of pain sounds like, and they all know that's what Kami's giving off. 

Drax has spent the past few days tense, tightening his knuckles till his tattoos look like cuts in his hands. He sharpens his knives obsessively, does chores fiercely. Rocket had been flying them back to Xandar--it was a two day journey from their location. But now, he's turned the controls over to a restless Drax and has retreated to a corner to curl up and cover his ears. Groot has been sorrowful, which is almost as painful to see as the baby hurting, and he's been holding her thrashing little shape whenever he can, whenever she'll allow herself to be separated from her mom. Her mom, who, by the way, is currently a complete wreck herself. 

Peter climbs down the ladder in exhaustion, scrubbing his hands over his face once he reaches the bottom. It's mostly quiet now--which isn't as much of a relief as it should be. They're still several hours away from Xandar. Peter called ahead, and Dey, concerned, promised to have a medical team with expertise in young children waiting. 

With a heavy heart, Peter keeps going, steeling himself before stepping into the common area. Gamora's sitting on the couch, Kam's tiny body tucked against her chest. The baby's little face is pressed to her neck, and Gamora's resting her head on her downy black hair. Kam's still crying faintly in her sleep. Peter slowly, silently eases to his knees in front of them. He knows Gamora's aware that he's there. 

She finally raises her head and looks at him, and her eyes are watery and terrified. He remembers the conversation he'd had with her, alone in the cockpit, when she'd first started to show and had come to him in a frantic state. She'd confessed, voice shaking, that she couldn't stop thinking about all the times her body had been altered, how many times she'd been injured, how she'd been beaten, nearly suffocated, shocked.

"I held onto an Infinity Stone, Peter," she hyperventilated. "Not...not as long as you did, but I held onto it and I don't even know what that could _do_ to a baby, and I..."

"Gamora. Gamora. Stop, look." He'd grasped her shoulders gently, and her gaze had snapped up to his, eyes wide. "We'll worry about tomorrow tomorrow." He said, looking her right in the eyes. "We're here for you. We'll figure something out."

Now, he watches Gamora's hand--deadly, skilled, sleek--running oh so gently up and down her daughter's spine, and his heart hurts. He doesn't dare reach out and touch the baby himself, for fear of waking her. Even though he wants to help. 

"We're five hours from Xandar," he says, pitching his voice so quiet even he can barely hear it. "Dey has a team on standby for when we come in."

Gamora doesn't say anything, keeps up her gentle touch to her baby's back. The space between them is quiet except for the noises of the ship and the baby's shuddering little breaths. 

Finally, Gamora raises her head and looks him dead in the eyes. She looks empty, like she's already given up. Peter's not sure if he wants to throw up or run to his bunk and cry his eyes out for an hour straight. He's got nothing but time, anyway.

"If..." Gamora's voice is flat but unsteady. "If she's not alright...I don't think I'll make it." 

She can clearly barely speak, but she says it so matter-of-factly that Peter feels sick again. He swallows a bitter taste of fear. "Yeah," he says quietly. "I don't think any of us will."

___

 

Peter had forgotten how much he hated hospitals. Even though the Nova Corps hospital is actually pretty nice; lots of real, living plants, a less industrial feel than Terran hospitals would have. Still has that weight that makes it hard to breathe, though. 

Upon landing--directly outside the hospital, under Drax's piloting--Kam had woken up and started screaming again, and Gamora had looked like she wished the ground would open up and eat her rather than having to face the doctors. They were all very kind and gentle, but Kami still worked herself into hysterics when they took her to run some tests. Gamora seemed like she'd wilted when her baby was out of sight, her tiny, shrill cries still echoing. The former assassin had latched onto Peter, and now the whole team is huddled together on a long, cushioned bench set up against a window. Rocket is perched on Groot's shoulder, Drax with his feet propped on Gamora's calves, his legs across Groot's lap. Gamora's curled into Peter's side, legs tucked underneath her, and Peter has his arm almost absentmindedly around her shoulder. They've been waiting for four hours. 

Finally, _finally_ , one of the doors along the hallway opens and a nurse--or what Peter assumes  
is the space equivalent of a nurse--comes out. "If you'll come with me, I'll take you to the baby, now," she says kindly, and waits patiently for all of them to detach themselves from each other. Peter stretches his limbs before following the others down the hall. 

Kam's asleep in a cradle in the spacious room they're taken to. She's hooked up to a single IV, which is either very good or very bad; Peter's not sure yet. She looks better, at least; her skin's back to it's normal shade and she doesn't seem to be in pain anymore, breathing soft and even. 

Dey's waiting with a couple doctors a few steps away from the cradle. "It's good to see you all. I wish it could be under better circumstances," he says apologetically. "However, I do think we have good news for you." 

He nods to one of the doctors, an alien with long, pink hair that's been tied in an elaborate braided style around her head. She steps forward. "We ran a few tests to see if we could determine something off that could be causing her so much pain. We got the results of the blood test back...and we." She glances down hesitantly. "We found out that her genetics are. Mixed? Not purely Zen-Whoberi?"

Gamora shakes her head. 

"We...had assumed that she was...half-terran. Or--uh--quarter-terran, if we wanted to be technical..." Dey says awkwardly. Peter shoots him a glare. He holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry, alright? We have a confidentiality agreement, so no one else knows."

"But we did find that her biological father's species grows spines along their back at a young age. Hers are likely to be shorter than a full-blooded's would be, but she'll still have them. It's similar to teething, but more painful. The good news is, it should only last for a couple months, we can give you medication to ease it a little, and it's completely harmless." The doctor finishes. She glances over at Kami sympathetically. "As soon as we got some painkillers in her she went right to sleep, poor thing. Must have worn herself out." She looks back at the group assembled before her. "Other than that, she got a clean bill of health." 

The collective sigh of relief is deafening. Peter glances over at the baby. It's funny, they haven't even had her for a year yet--haven't even _known about her existence for a year yet_ \--but he's so unbelievably glad that they don't have to face anything worse than general fussiness for a few months. In fact, he's pretty sure all of them will be glad to be deafened. 

"We figured after your long trip in that you might like to stay on Xandar, at least overnight," Dey says. "There's more than enough room in here. We'll probably give Kami one more dose by IV overnight, but after that you all can leave whenever you wish. Just let me know when you do, so I can get you the proper dosages of the oral version of the medicine." With a nod and a friendly smile, Dey leaves the room, gently closing the door behind him. 

The moment the door closes, Gamora crosses the room in two strides till she's right next to the crib. She lifts her hand, but then stays still, lets it hover less than an inch above her baby's face. Finally, she lays her fingers on Kami's cheek, stroking it with a feather-light touch. The baby stirs sleepily, blinks groggily up at her mom for a moment before a grin breaks over her face and she gurgles happily. 

Gamora makes a strangled sound and practically collapses over the crib, murmuring in her native tongue in a voice that makes Peter want to cry because _dammit, he still misses his mom._ He's old enough now that's it's faded to a dull ache...but _shit_ , he misses his mom. But now he's so grateful that he just slumps back and lands on one of the cushioned benches across the walls of the room and just breathes in utter relief. Across the room, Drax smiles and lies down on one of the benches, apparently ready to catch up on his lost sleep, while Groot sits against the cradle and flops his long legs out in front of him, leaning back and beaming as only a tree can. Peter smiles sleepily himself, and decides to follow Drax's example and get some rest. He leans back and closes his eyes, and lets the familiar sounds of his team ease him off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If anybody's interested in submitting fluffy, non shippy prompts, I'll see if I get any inspiration from 'em. Hope you'll enjoy. :)


End file.
